Chapter 86

At 2 a. m., the three lights on the control box suddenly flashed together.

Zhao Jianguo was dozing against a stone stool; a flicker of his eyelid woke him. He didn't get up, just reached to the side of the control box, his fingertip touching the copper plate stamped with "86" still firmly attached, and felt a little reassured. But the lights flashed again, and this time the buzzer sounded three short tones, as brief as someone tapping a bowl's edge.

He sprang to his feet and flung open the control box lid. The voltage meter needle trembled slightly—not a broken line, not a leak, but more like someone gently nudged the circuit from outside—yet the patrolling Jia Dongxu had just replied, the west wall was empty, the main gate empty, the back alley empty.

"Something's wrong with the gate," he muttered low.

He pulled out the logbook and turned to the data He Yushui had recorded that afternoon. Three alarms, each spaced exactly forty‑seven seconds apart, as precise as a stopwatch. Such a rhythm couldn't be caused by a mere rustle of wind.

He grabbed the copper whistle, gave two short blasts and a long one. As soon as the sound faded, Sha Zhu poked his head out of the East Room, wrapped in a cotton coat, still chewing half a biscuit.

"Testing the alarm again?" he asked.

"It's not a test." Zhao Jianguo slipped the whistle into his hand. "You guard the main gate, don't let any outsider in, and don't let our people wander. I suspect someone's pulling a trick."

Hearing that, Sha Zhu stopped chewing, straightened his clothes and sprinted toward the main gate. Zhao Jianguo shouted toward the west wall, Jia Dongxu answered and came over carrying a tool bag.

"The wire isn't broken, but someone's touched it," Zhao Jianguo said, pointing at the voltage fluctuation curve. "Does this waveform look like someone brushed something against it and then withdrew?"

Jia Dongxu leaned in, frowned, and asked, "Who's so idle to come at midnight and brush our electric wire?"

"Idle people wouldn't do this," Zhao Jianguo closed the lid. "Either it's scouting or a diversion. Trace the wire all the way and see if any junction has been tampered with."

He Yushui jogged over, notebook clutched to her chest, pencil clipped behind her ear: "The third alarm was at 2:07 a. m., voltage jumped 0.3 V, higher than the previous."

Zhao Jianguo nodded. "Record it. From now on, every time it sounds, real or false, log the time, voltage, and wind direction. I want to see how many tricks this person can pull."

As soon as the words finished, a "Clap!" rang from the west wall, like a board snapping.

The two exchanged a glance, Jia Dongxu turned and sprinted toward the west wall. Zhao Jianguo was about to follow when a "Boom—" thudded from the warehouse, followed by a flash of fire and rising black smoke.

"Crap!" He Yushui shouted, "The warehouse is on fire!"

【8】 The courtyard erupted into chaos. Yanbugui rushed out of the house holding a bamboo pole, shouting "Fire!" while beating the Copper Gong. Sha Zhu, hearing the commotion, turned with two rotating youngsters and ran toward the warehouse.

The courtyard instantly fell into chaos. Yanbugui, leaning on a bamboo pole, burst out of the house, shouting "Fire!" while beating the Copper Gong. Sha Zhu heard the noise, grabbed two youngsters on duty, and turned and ran toward the warehouse.

Zhao Jianguo stood rooted in place.

He stared at the blaze—small, about the size of a bucket of old oil burning, flames concentrated, no debris piled nearby, no one shouting. The wind came from the north, yet the fire burned southward, the direction wrong.

"Who poured oil into the warehouse at midnight and lit it so precisely?" he sneered, then turned to He Yushui, "You go beat the gong, shout for help; the louder the commotion, the better."

He Yushui was startled, "But you're not…"

"Do exactly as I say," Zhao Jianguo whispered low, "Make everyone think the whole courtyard is empty."

He Yushui understood instantly, grabbed the gong and ran to the Central Courtyard, beating and shouting, "Fire! The west‑side warehouse is on fire! Grab water buckets!"

When the gong rang, even Jia Dongxu glanced back, hesitating whether to go. Zhao Jianguo gave him a look; Jia Dongxu understood, crouched like a cat and slipped behind the firewood stack by the west wall, not reappearing.

The Central Courtyard fell silent.

Zhao Jianguo blew out the Oil Lamp, squatted beside the control box, and felt the copper badge—"Number One"—in his pocket. He hadn't handed it out; he kept it. Now this thing is more useful than the whistle: it's command authority and also a target.

He waited quietly.

Seven minutes.

A faint scraping sound came from the wall top, like cloth against brick. A silhouette slipped in, landed silently, and pressed against the Wall Base, feeling its way toward the Central Courtyard.

The person moved very steadily, avoiding the coal ash scattered on the ground and the newly buried electric wire stakes, clearly having been here before. Reaching the control box, he pulled a small knife from his coat, pried the lid open, and reached in to pull the electric wire.

Zhao Jianguo had been waiting for this moment.

He slammed the red button on the box's side—the backup power switch he had quietly added yesterday. The buzzer emitted a long "Wooo—" tone, and the three lights flashed in succession.

The dark figure startled, his hand trembled, and the wire didn't come out. He quickly closed the lid, looked left and right, saw no pursuer, relaxed, and pulled a small box from his coat, opened it, and began turning a knob.

Zhao Jianguo squinted— it was a transmitter.

He silently retrieved an empty can by his foot, flicked it with his finger; the can rolled two meters and "Clang!" hit a stone post.

The dark figure instantly turned back.

Seizing the brief gap, Zhao Jianguo lunged, slamming into the figure's back. Both fell to the ground, the transmitter slipped from his hand and slid to the Main Hall doorway.

The dark figure reacted swiftly, rolling to break free. Zhao Jianguo clutched the hand holding the transmitter; the opponent elbowed his shoulder, searing with pain, yet he gritted his teeth and held on.

The person grew frantic, lifted a leg to kick; Zhao Jianguo rolled with the motion, toppling him, his knee pinning the wrist. The transmitter kept beeping, sending short codes "di‑di‑di".

"Pretty dedicated," Zhao Jianguo panted, reaching for the transmitter, when the figure snapped his head up and bit his arm.

Zhao Jianguo winced, instinctively opened his mouth and chomped at the hand holding the equipment. The figure's grip loosened, the electric wire snapped, and the transmitter emitted a "Zzz" and puffed out a wisp of green smoke.

At that moment, a "Whoosh!" sounded from the eaves as Jia Dongxu leapt from the roof, flung a rope, looped it around the figure's neck, wound it around a pillar, and in a few motions tied the person tightly.

Zhao Jianguo slumped on the ground, gasping heavily. He Yushui ran over, lamp in hand, and Sha Zhu returned from the warehouse, still carrying a water bucket.

"The fire's out," Sha Zhu panted, "Just a small pile of oil‑soaked cloth; two buckets of water put it out."

"No one lit it," Zhao Jianguo wiped his face, "Someone wanted to move us all out."

He rose, walked to the Main Hall doorway, and picked up the transmitter. Its casing was hot, the wire ends charred. Flipping it over, a slip of paper stuck to the back bore a string of numbers: **0427-881**.

"What's this?" He Yushui leaned in.

"A code," Zhao Jianguo squinted, "Either a designation or the time for the next rendezvous."

He turned to the man bound to the pillar. The man was in his thirties, a old scar running from his left eyebrow to his mouth corner, his gaze cold as well water.

"How long have you been lying low?" Zhao Jianguo asked.

The man gave no answer, only a cold sneer.

"You slipped into the factory, colluded with Yi Zhonghai, brought down Jia Wu, sealed files, hid parts, and now you're tampering with our alarm system." Zhao Jianguo crouched, staring at him, "You think changing the place and method makes us unable to trace you?"

The man still said nothing, but his eyes flickered briefly.

Zhao Jianguo laughed, "You're not rushing the transmission, which shows you have a backup plan. But you don't know, our courtyard now has not only eyes, but also teeth."

He stood, handed the transmitter to Jia Dongxu, "Keep it; this is solid evidence."

Sha Zhu came over, glanced at the bound man, then at the control box, "What now? We can't just leave him squatting here all night, can we?"

"Right here." Zhao Jianguo patted the control box, "If he wants to touch it, he'll have to watch it constantly. Let him see how we guard the house."

He sat back on the stone stool, casually unscrewed the Oil Lamp. Its light fell on the control box, where the three tiny lights rested quietly, their red glows flickering faintly.

He Yushui flipped open the logbook and wrote the final line: **2:34 a. m., enemy special leader captured, transmitter interrupted, system intact. **

Zhao Jianguo lowered his head, glanced at his bitten arm, and touched the copper token in his pocket.

He nodded at Jia Dongxu: "Go fetch Uncle Yan and bring him back; don't let him just stand dumbfounded in the warehouse."

Jia Dongxu had just left when the bound man suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse: "You think catching me means it's over?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't look up; he simply took out the copper token and turned it half a circle under the lamp.

The lamp light flashed, and the characters "No. 1" on the token's face lit up briefly.